You look fabulous today. It’s not the debt ceiling deal, is it? Your hair looks great. Maybe that’s it. Whatever it is, you look mahvelous. So what’s new, pussycat? Thank … more
You look fabulous today. It’s not the debt ceiling deal, is it? Your hair looks great. Maybe that’s it.
Whatever it is, you look mahvelous.
So what’s new, pussycat?
Thank you for the recipe ideas the other day. Keep ‘em comin’, o.k.? I need all the help I can get. Soon I will be sharing even more recipes-and-a-chat in another corner of the Internet, & I hope you’ll come with me. Will you come with me, when I go there, and tell where you it is that I’m going? I’ll still be here, but I’ll be “there,” too. You can follow me. I’ll stop at yellow lights, and be sure to use my turn signal early and often. I won’t switch lanes unless I have to. Promise. I’m lost without you. You know that. Maybe I don’t tell you enough, but…
I love you.
So my husband thinks that, lately, the blog has gotten a little too personal. What do you think?
Specifically, he means this post, and this post. This is surprising for a couple reasons.
First, who even knew he read my blog? He usually claims to have “skimmed.” Blah blah blah.
Second, as far as blogs go, I think I’m pretty discreet. Seriously. Have you seen what else is out there on the Internet? I think I hold back while holding forth. You don’t care what I had for breakfast. I’m fairly certain you had breakfast, too. Breakfast is like birthdays, and birthdays are like some singular part of one’s anatomy in the posterior region. Everybody has one.
At this point, I barely even remember what I had for breakfast. I don’t even care what I had for breakfast.Why would you?
I got bored, and may or may not have nodded off. What were we talking about?
Oh, right. Boring blogs.
So I try not to bore you. I use myself as a guinea pig. I write, walk away {maybe eat breakfast}, come back and read. If I nod off, I rewrite. If I make myself laugh, I hit publish. It’s like that.
And I try very hard not to overshare {ew}. Just so you know, I do struggle with what to share here on the blog. I’m old enough not to be a digital native, you know? In college, if I wanted to type a paper, I had to either head to the “computer lab” on campus, or borrow a friend’s word processor. And the word processor had little margin for error, since its screen displayed a grand total of 15 characters. Not words. Not letters. Characters. It made Twitter look downright voluble. If you made a mistake, you’d best catch it right quick.
So “sharing” on the Internet is not, well, native to me. I’m a Stranger in a Strange Land. I tend to think that my everyday life is pretty humdrum (probably because it, in fact, is humdrum). Just take a listen:
I have 3 kids, and a husband. And 2 dogs. A cat, even. I was laid off from a lucrative part time attorney job in March 2009. I struggled with what to do next. I think everyone who gets laid off should start a blog. Totally. Pick out what subject is most interesting to you in the world. The topic that, when it comes up at a dinner party, you want to talk about more and more and more while everyone else just wants to gather their freaking coats, kids, and go home. Then start a blog about it. You never know when it might be mentioned in an article in the New York Times, and a literary agent might contact you with the good news that she thinks it would make a great book.
You never know.
I don’t save enough for my kids’ retirement or my schooling, and I feel guilty about it. I drive a minivan (now that’s embarrassing). I don’t compost because I don’t like worms, although I have heard that you can do it without worms (yeah, right – prove it). But every time I throw something away, a nasty little voice inside my head says “don’t throw it away; there is no away.” I have that recurring dream where I’m not wearing any pants, and apparently I’m miles away from a freaking Gap and can’t get any. Like that would ever happen. The Gap is everywhere. I wish I could raise chickens because I would get the ones with blue behind their ears so they would lay blue eggs. We had chicken paella last night for dinner. It rocked. I should be grateful that our town has a pool nearby, but instead I complain bitterly all Summer long that it needs more shade and smells increasingly like pee as the season wears on. {Ew.}
See? Boring. Still reading?
What else could you possibly want to know?
Except how to make super easy worth-turning-on-your-oven Granola Bars. That I can show you. And maybe it’ll even be a little bit interesting.
- 3 cups quick-cooking certified gluten-free oats (or pulse rolled oats in a food processor a bit)
- 3 cups up-to-you combination of nuts, dried berries and/or seeds (I used equal parts dried blueberries, diced dried plums, slivered toasted almonds, and chopped pecans)
- 2 tablespoons ground cinnamon (optional)
- ⅓ cup unsweetened cocoa powder (optional)
- 2 tablespoons unsulphured molasses (optional)
- 1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
- Preheat your oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease the bottom and sides of the bottom of an 8-inch by 8-inch square pan with unsalted butter or shortening. Place one sheet of parchment paper long enough to overhang the edges of the pan, and grease the parchment paper.
- In a large bowl, mix the oats, nuts, berries and/or seeds, optional cinnamon and optional cocoa powder until well combined.
- Add the optional molasses and the sweetened condensed milk, and mix until well combined and until the milk appears to be holding everything together.
- Spread the mixture in the bottom of the prepared pan, and press with wet hands as hard as you can on the mixture so that it compresses into the bottom and corners of the pan.
- Place the pan in the center of the preheated oven, and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the edges begin to brown.
- Cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then use parchment to lift from pan. Cut into 16 pieces with a sharp, wet serrated knife.
- Cool bars completely, and store at room temperature in an airtight container.
Love you. Mean it.
xoxo Nicole

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